


The Legal Thing

by bluebellsandcocklesshells



Series: 642 Prompts [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Doctor!Dean, Established Relationship, M/M, Miscommunication, Real Estate Agent Castiel, non G rated language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellsandcocklesshells/pseuds/bluebellsandcocklesshells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt 1 of 642: Write yesterday’s fortune cookie.  It got everything wrong.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Legal Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 1 of 642: Write yesterday’s fortune cookie. It got everything wrong.

“You will find a thing.  It may be important.”

“In bed!” Balthazar snickered and made Castiel look up from the small white slip of paper in his hand.  “Maybe you’ll finally find your balls.  If Winchester hasn’t already stored their dried remains in an old baby food jar and shoved it to the back of the pantry.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and tossed the paper aside.  When your best friend and your boyfriend couldn’t stand each other, all you could do was ignore their petty comments about each other.

“What does yours say?” Cas asked.

“Hmm…”  Balthazar cracked open his golden brown cookie.  He popped a piece into his mouth and straightened out the slip.  He frowned.  “You are cleverly disguised as a responsible adult.”

Cas snorted.

“That’s not even a fortune,” Balthazar complained.

“But it is accurate.”

Balthazar flicked him off as he ate the rest of his cookie.  Castiel pulled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed twenty bucks on the table.

“Sorry to eat and run, but I have to get home—”

“To an empty house?” Balthazar asked pointedly.

Castiel didn’t respond, but stood up from his seat.

“What are you doing with your life, Cassie?  I get that you’ve known him a long time and God knows he must be a monster in bed for you to put up with his shit, but how long are you going to let him treat you like crap?”

“He does not treat me like crap.  He’s very considerate and kind and—”

“And blah, blah.  I’ve heard it all before.  You’ve been with him for what, six, seven years now?”

“Eight,” Castiel muttered.

“Eight years and he still doesn’t like to use the term ‘boyfriend.’  He’s a commitmentphobe and a douche and he doesn’t deserve you.”

“He doesn’t like the term boyfriend because—”

“Does it matter?” Balthazar asked.  “You can’t refer to him as anything else either.”

“Bal, I didn’t come here to fight.  We had dinner and a good conversation.  Can we leave on a good note?”

Balthazar put his hands in the air.  “Whatever you wish, darling.”

“Thank you.  It was good seeing you.  I’ll text you this weekend, okay?”

Balthazar nodded vaguely and Cas hesitated for a moment but got no other acknowledgement.  So, he turned and left the restaurant, wishing he knew what to do to reconcile the two most important people in his life.

As he drove his old Lincoln home—the one Dean had fixed up for him to drive after his twenty year old Honda had finally crapped out on him—he rapidly forgot his mild tiff with Balthazar.  Going home to Dean always made him happy.  Until he saw the darkened windows of their small, one story home starkly contrasted with the warm glow from the homes that surrounded it.  The Impala wasn’t in the driveway or under the carport.  Cas took the space for himself.  He knew he would leave in the morning before Dean got home.

In the empty house, he regretted more than usual his decision to give his cat, Buzz, to his sister when he decided to move in with Dean.  Dean was allergic and at the time Cas thought he’d be able to snuggle with his boyfriend instead.  Now he spent a lot of time alone in a rundown house that was not as nice as they could afford, but it was close to Sam.

He walked directly to the kitchen and didn’t bother with the overhead light, only the one over the sink.  He knew where the message would be on the refrigerator.  He pulled the note out from underneath the Lester’s Possum Park magnet and saw the strong, neat handwriting of his absentee lover.

_Got roped into a double at the clinic.  Won’t be home tonight.  Meet me at Paulie’s tomorrow at seven after work.  I’ve got something important to discuss.  –D_

Cas crumpled the message up and threw it in the garbage.  The diner on 37th was for when Dean wanted to be “romantic.”  Burt’s BBQ was for when he was feeling guilty about something.  Paulie’s was for when he had something “big” to discuss.  Usually something along the lines of asking Castiel to give up something so that Dean could do something.  Castiel didn’t begrudge him anything.  He didn’t ask for much and Castiel had only ever given what he was willing to give.  But one time it might be nice for Cas to get something he wanted.  He supposed it was his fault for never asking—but he was too scared.  What if Balthazar was right?  What if he asked for something Dean wouldn’t—or couldn’t—give, and he left him?

Castiel refused to let Balthazar put doubts in his head.  It had almost led to them breaking up once before.  Cas had picked a fight—a terrible fight—and all because Balthazar had said that he was unhappy, not because he actually felt unhappy.  Not everyone could be happy in the kind of arrangement he and Dean had, Cas knew that, but that didn’t mean that _they_ weren’t happy with it.

Cas sighed and emptied his pockets onto the bureau in their bedroom before getting undressed for bed.  He was happy.  He looked at his empty bed.  No boyfriend, no cat.  He sighed again.  Maybe he should get a goldfish.

~~~

Cas watched his hands in the mirror as he tied a beautiful Eldredge knot out of the light pink silk tie his mother had given him for Christmas a couple years back.  He folded the collar of his white shirt down and then slipped on his impeccably tailored suit coat.  It was kind of tragic that he sold million dollar real estate and yet lived in a house that could be bought outright with most of his sales’ closing costs alone.  He sighed as he picked up his wallet from the Bureau.  The things he did for love.

A flutter of white caught Cas’ eye as he turned from the bureau.  It fell off the top and into a crack in Dean’s underwear/sock drawer.  He pulled open the drawer and poked around until he found the note from the fortune cookie in last night’s dinner.  He brushed his thumb over the message: You will find a thing.  It may be important.  It was so vague it could probably always be interpreted as right.

Cas moved to shut the drawer when he spotted something half-buried under a pair of bright blue briefs that Dean refused to admit that he liked to wear (but they always wound up in the hamper; who did Dean think did the laundry?).  It kind of looked like a small, velvet-covered black box.  It looked like a ring box, which was the only reason Cas decided to pry into Dean’s privacy and check because there was no way that it was a ring box.

He pulled out the object.  It was a ring box.  Cas glanced around.  He strummed his fingers around it, and then couldn’t stop himself from opening it.  Because he knew it would be empty.

It was not empty.  It contained a shiny gold band.  It was a wedding ring.  It was the only thing it could be.  Unless it was a ring of power…Cas pulled it out to check for an inscription.  Dean was a nerd with a lot of nerd friends.  It might be a costume prop.

It was not a costume prop.  Cas could tell by the feel and the weight of it.  It was a gold ring.  And somehow it wound up on his left ring finger.  It fit like it had been sized to fit him.  He stared at it dumbfounded for a moment.

Then Cas let out a silent scream and crouched down as he shook his arms in victory.  He straightened with a hop and stared at the ring on his finger.  He could feel the grin on his face threatening to break his face open.  This was what dinner at Paulie’s had to be about it.  He just knew it.  Dean was going to propose.  Then Cas could shove all of Balthazar’s commitmentphobe comments back in his face.

He gave another victory fist pump and then had a quick panic attack that he wouldn’t be able to get the ring off his finger.  However, it slid off as easily as it went on because it had been made just for him after all.  Cas put the ring back in its box and hid it back under the blue underwear.  Then he shut the drawer.  Then he pulled it open slightly so that it looked like Dean had left it.  Cas tucked the lucky fortune cookie paper into his pocket and grabbed the keys to the BMW he kept parked in the garage.  He could live in a dump for Dean, but he couldn’t sell expensive property with an ugly ass car sitting out in front of it.

~~~

Cas hadn’t quite been able to keep the smile all off his face all day, and now that he was at Paulie’s it was back to a grin.  People probably thought he was creepy, but he was too ecstatic to care.  He checked in with the host and fully expected to be escorted to an empty table to wait on Dean.  He was happily shocked to find Dean was already seated and waiting for him.  He had to be excited and eager too.

Rather than sitting down right away, he walked over to Dean and gave him a long, close mouthed kiss.  It probably drew a little attention from the dining room, but he didn’t care.  Then he sat down, a big smile on his face as he looked at the man he loved.  Dean looked pleased by the kiss, but a little embarrassed too.

“What was that for?” Dean mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cas shrugged.  “Nothing.  I just love you.”

Dean settled a bit.  “I love you too.”

Dean’s calm helped to calm Cas.  He was able to sit through dinner without jumping out of his skin every time Dean’s arm or hand moved toward his person.  Once they were on dessert though, Cas became impatient.

“So, Dean.”

“Yeah, babe?”

“In your note you said you had something important to discuss.  Unless it was the fact that you’ve determined that you like Fat Az burgers better than Biggerson’s, I don’t think we’ve covered it.”

Dean nodded and wiped his mouth with a napkin.  “Oh, right, thanks.  I almost forgot.”

Cas’ smile faltered and he tilted his head.  Almost forgot?  Dean just had to be teasing him.  His smile returned.  He put his arms on the table and leaned forward a bit.

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s the kind of thing that would mean big changes for us.”

Castiel nodded eagerly.  “Okay.  Let’s do it.  Okay.”

Dean laughed and gave him an odd look.  “You don’t even know what I’m talking about it.”

Cas pulled back a little.  “You’re right.  Sorry.  Go ahead.”

“I know you don’t like our house—”

“That’s not…”  Dean gave him a look.  “I hate it.”

Dean smiled.  “I know.  I love you for putting it up with it for me for so long.  But now I was thinking that this would present us with the perfect opportunity to find a new place.  Nicer, bigger, with more bedrooms.”

“Yeah, of course!  I’ve had my eye on a few properties in a few neighborhoods.  We can look at some as early as this weekend.  I think this is a good opportunity for us to move forward as well.”

Dean tilted his head.  “Do you know…about the opportunity?”

Cas mirrored Dean’s head movement.  “Don’t I?”

“Have you talked to Sam?”

Cas shook his head and grinned.  “No, don’t worry.  Sam didn’t ruin the surprise.”

Dean still looked confused.  “Well, it’s not really a surprise, but I’m glad he didn’t come throw his puppy dog eyes at you.  I told him I needed to discuss it with you before we moved forward with our plan.”

Cas sat back in his chair, his hands falling into his lap.  “Our” plan.  Castiel instinctively knew Dean was talking about his plan with his brother.

“What is the plan?” Cas asked flatly.

“Well, he’s graduating soon.  And he’s got that internship at that fancy ass law firm, but it’s paying him basically nothing.  Jess has a lot of student debt from nursing school, so we thought it would be best if we all moved in together.  We’re established enough that it shouldn’t be a problem to help out Sam and Jess for awhile.  I know you love them both, so you’re on board with it, right?  We help them out, you get a new house.  It’s win-win.”

Castiel stared at Dean.  Dean’s eyes darted around nervously.

“W-what?” Dean asked with a gulp.

“You’re not asking me to marry you?”

Dean laughed.  “Why would I ask you to marry me?”  His humor fled his face as he took in Castiel’s expression.  “I-I mean…we talked about it and it wasn’t something that…we had that medical decision legal thing and we’ve never…you didn’t…um.  Marriage?  You didn’t say…why?  Why did you think…?”

“What’s the ring for?” Castiel asked, hearing the ice in his tone and wishing that he could be a little more neutral.  He didn’t want to start a raging fight in a fine dining restaurant, but something cold and powerful—and melancholic—was lashing about under his skin.

“What ring?”

“The ring in your sock drawer.  The wedding band.”

“Oh.  That’s my father’s old ring.  I got it out of the safety deposit box because Sam and Jess want to get married before they moved in.  I thought he’d want to wear Dad’s ring.”

Cas let out an incredulous bark of laughter.  “Sam and Jess are getting married.  After less than a year?”  Castiel shook his head and stood up from the table.  He threw his napkin into his chair.  He thought about saying more, but instead he turned around and walked away.

“Cas!” Dean called after him, but he kept walking.

Outside the night air was cool and felt soothing against his heated face.  He walked into the parking lot, but didn’t bother to head for his car.  He just started walking.  There was a strip mall across the four lane road next to the restaurant.  Maybe he’d go hide in the nail salon; Dean would never look for him there.

He waited for the lanes to clear and then jogged across the street.  He heard Dean call his name from the other side of the road.  He frowned that he’d been caught, but decided not to abandon his plan.  Dean kept calling out for him, but he ignored it.  He felt like such an idiot.  He’d been fine with the way things were, and then he’d let himself hope for something that neither of them wanted (right?) and now he’d made everything awful.  He wished he’d never opened that sock drawer.  He wished he’d never gotten that stupid fortune cookie.

“Cas!”

Tires squealed and a horn blared.  Castiel turned around, his heart slamming in his chest.  A man was leaning out his car window and giving Dean the middle finger as he climbed the grassy embankment up to the strip mall parking lot.  Cas exhaled in relief and waited for Dean to catch up to him.  Dean came to a stop in front of him and just stood there.  They looked at each other under the dim light of a dying lamppost.

“Cas…I’m sorry.  I’ve done something.  Tell me what it is.  Tell me how to fix it.”

Cas shrugged.  “You haven’t done anything.  I just…saw the ring and misunderstood.”

“Oh.”  Dean attempted a smile.  “Is that all?”

Cas’ eyes hardened.  He’d been about to back down, let it go, but then his anger flared again.

“Is that all?” he snapped.  “Yeah, that’s all.  Just our relationship.  Just our commitment to each other.  Or lack thereof.”

“Lack of commitment?” Dean asked, looking genuinely confused.  “We’ve been together for…uh…eight years.  We live together.  We share bills and house chores.  We can legally pull the plug on each other.  What about that isn’t commitment?”

“Why are Sam and Jess getting married and we’re not?”

“When have you ever said you wanted to get married?  We discussed it once and as I recall you didn’t seem all that interested.”

“That was _six_ years ago, Dean!  And tonight you laughed like the very idea was ridiculous.”  Cas knew he shouldn’t keep going, but he did.  “Balthazar was right.”

“Oh, here we go!” Dean said throwing his hands in the hair and pacing a few steps as he got worked up.  “Of course that British ‘prat’ is sticking his nose in our business again.  If he’s so interested in commitment, why don’t you just marry _him_?!”

Dean whirled around and stuck a finger in Castiel’s face.  “I do not mean that literally.”

Cas slapped his hand away.  “Oh come off it.  You don’t care if I married someone.  You just don’t want to me to be with him.”

“What fucking universe are you living in that you think I’d be okay with you being with anybody else?!   _Ever_?!”

“Because you don’t want me!  You don’t even like to be referred to as my boyfriend.  Too much pressure, right?  Too clingy.”

“Cas, I’ve told you I just don’t like that term because it’s so juvenile.  We moved past that stage years ago, don’t you think?”

“Moved on to what?  You don’t want anyone to refer to us as anything that connects us!”

“Cas, you’re hung up on fucking nomenclature?”

“Yes!  Yes!  Fucking nomenclature!  Boyfriend too strong a word for you, Dean?  What do you prefer?!”

They both stopped yelling.  They stood in the mostly empty parking lot, not quite looking at each other.  Castiel couldn’t move, so he didn’t bother to try.  Dean didn’t seem inclined to do anything either.  Time stretched out between them.  Castiel literally had no idea what to do.

“Dr. Winchester?”

They both turned to see a skinny man holding a plastic bag with a K-Mart logo on it next to a red jeep.

“Oh.”  Dean’s voice sounded rough.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “Hi, Garth.  Finally get a night off?”

“Yeah.  First one in a couple months.  How are you?”

“Good.”

“Good.”  The man looked at Cas.  “Is this your husband?”

Castiel raised his eyebrows.  He glanced at Dean and could see that his face had gone a little red.

“Uh, yep.  This is Cas.  Cas, this is Garth.  He’s one of the nurses we on boarded in that big hire six months ago.”

“Nice to meet you,” Castiel said politely.

“Likewise,” Garth replied.  “Dr. Winchester talks about you so much it makes me think about proposing to every girl I go on a date with.  I mean, if marriage is that awesome, why wait?” he finished with a laugh.

Cas nodded vaguely.  “Uh.  Yep.”

Garth glanced between them and finally picked up on the slightly awkward tension.  “Well, then.  I better get going.”

“Goodnight, Garth,” Dean said.

The man got into his car and drove off in a matter of seconds.  Cas watched his taillights head for the exit, and then he turned to Dean.

“What was that about?”

Dean cracked the knuckles of one hand.  “I, uh.  Kind of refer to you as my husband at work.”  He let out a small sigh and looked up with a bemused smile.  “ _That_ ’s the term I prefer.”

Castiel looked at his—whatever—in consternation.  He crossed his arms.  Dean scratched his nose but didn’t say anything else.  Castiel let out a noise of exasperation.

“You do know that there’s a way to make it so that that’s the correct term, right?”

Dean shrugged a shoulder and gave him a lopsided smile.  “Yeah.  You marry me.  Become my husband.”

Cas let his arms relax, but he looked down uncertainly at the ground.  “Is that something you want?”

“For about six years now, Cas.”

Cas looked up.  He wanted to be angry but his voice wavered and came out watery with forming tears.

“You asshat.  You…you asshole.  Y-you…you assbutt.”

Dean was at his side and pulling him into his arms.  “All of the above.  But, it’s not like you couldn’t have said something.”

“Shut up,” Cas sniffed into Dean’s shoulder.  He suddenly straightened and looked Dean in the eye.  “Marry me.  Be my husband.”

Dean chuckled at his serious delivery.  “I already am in every way that matters,” he said softly.

Castiel’s heart thudded like it had the first time he’d seen Dean in the hallway at high school.  He accepted Dean’s kiss and grew faint from the tenderness and passion.  He did manage to collect his thoughts enough to pull back for one final comment before he totally lost himself.

“Every way that matters, but let’s do the legal thing, too, okay?”

“You got it.  Fiancé.”

Dean grinned at Cas’ frown.

“I’m going to regret this whole ‘nomenclature’ thing, aren’t I?” Cas asked.

“Little bit,” Dean confirmed, and then kissed him.


End file.
